


and if love were a rose, i'd leave it un-plucked

by wartransmission



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Lithromantic!Iwaizumi, M/M, Second person POV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-15
Updated: 2015-06-15
Packaged: 2018-04-04 12:17:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4137216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wartransmission/pseuds/wartransmission
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p></p><blockquote>
  <p>People like to say that you fall into love because it’s not something you can control, not something you can choose of your own volition. It happens, sometimes without you realizing it at first, and not everyone is always happy with it. Falling in love can be really inconvenient at times, after all.</p>
  <p>But you don’t fall into love.</p>
  <p>You like to think that you grew into it. In the same way that you grew from your lanky body to something a little stronger, taller, something more built for sports than indoor games, you grew to love him because he’s always there for you, a constant that keeps you standing and moving forward even when you unintentionally make your own blockades.</p>
</blockquote>Or, a story in which love isn't quite as simple as some people like to think it is.<p>[Sequel to <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/3887113">desynchronization</a>.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	and if love were a rose, i'd leave it un-plucked

**Author's Note:**

> This is completely unbeta-ed, soo....I'm sorry for any mistakes h ahaha. Please tell me if you find any! Also, I'd appreciate comments on this fic, just so I know if I should keep going or not <3

Nothing changes, even after the realization that you’re in love with him.

You expect it, but you don’t at the same time. You expect it because half of you already knew what it was that made you stay, because it’s not like there was ever a time that you weren’t in love with him, anyway.

You don’t expect it, because a part of you had thought that being in love would be different. You’ve never been one for romance, sure, but that didn’t mean you were oblivious to what being in love meant.

You had thought that something would change. You thought that you’d feel something new.

You don’t.

You look at him, you ruffle his hair, you slap him on the back, and everything feels the same. There’s a tingle under your skin when you feel his warmth against your palm but it’s not really anything new, nothing that you’d attribute to your most recent realization about your feelings for Oikawa.

You’re just…in love with him.

You don’t think you can ever feel anything else.

 

* * *

 

People like to say that you fall into love because it’s not something you can control, not something you can choose of your own volition. It happens, sometimes without you realizing it at first, and not everyone is always happy with it. Falling in love can be really inconvenient at times, after all.

But you don’t fall into love.

You like to think that you grew into it. In the same way that you grew from your lanky body to something a little stronger, taller, something more built for sports than indoor games, you grew to love him because he’s always there for you, a constant that keeps you standing and moving forward even when you unintentionally make your own blockades.

You grew into love with him because he’s always been yours, even when he doesn’t admit to it, and you’ve always been his. He dislikes talking about it, probably thinks that it’s too sappy a topic, but it’s a truth that you treasure in the same way that you treasure volleyball. Because why wouldn’t you? Iwa-chan doesn’t have to care about you like this. No one assigned him to be your guardian, or your friend, or anything else.

He chose to be with you. He chose to stand by your side, he chose to be your friend, and he chose _you_ over anyone else.

You can’t help from loving him. You don’t _want_ to stop loving him, because as much as it hurts, you don’t think anyone could ever really deserve having your heart just as much as he does. Even when you don’t know, even when you aren’t sure that he loves you in the same way, you don’t want to stop. Because he still _loves_ you in his own way, he cares about you, he would _hurt_ for you if he had to, and you want-

You want his everything. You want all of him.

You don’t think you can ever imagine him being with anyone else. And it’s selfish, you know that much, but he still loves you despite knowing that, doesn’t he?

He loves you.

You just don’t know if he loves you just as much as you love him.

 

* * *

  

You’re lying on your bed, your stare not quite reaching your ceiling as it does go _beyond_ it, and you’re still thinking about the strangeness of being in love with one of your closest friends. It’s strange because you didn’t think this is where you’d end up being; not once in your childhood did you ever consider that you’d be in love with the idiot who kept crying whenever he gets just a little bit injured from stumbling over the rocky path heading to your favorite place as a kid.

You’re in love with him, and you don’t really feel like you have to do anything about it.

You figure that’s a good thing. It’d be horrible if you ruined your friendship with Oikawa just because you couldn’t deal with your feelings, so you’re glad that you can avoid that. It’s a little strange, true, knowing that you’re in love with him but not feeling particularly inclined to the idea of being…well, in a relationship with him. It’s strange because you’d figured that, when you fell in love with someone, you’d want to be with them in the way that your mom and dad first got together in college. Going on dates, holding hands, kissing- all of that.

You don’t. You try to imagine yourself doing that kind of thing with Oikawa and all you feel is awkwardness settling like lead in the pit of your stomach, because you just _can’t_ imagine it. You try, you honestly do, but it just feels _wrong_. Going on dates is something Oikawa does with cute girls, not with you, and you don’t want to mess with the routine you’ve both somehow set up for each other. He dates, you don’t, and that’s fine. You’re busy enough with volleyball and your studies, and you’ve never really been inclined to the idea of dating anyone like Oikawa is.

You just want things to stay the same, because it’s comfortable that way.

There’s nothing wrong with wanting to keep it the way it is, is there?

 

* * *

  

It’s unfair. You _know_ it’s unfair, but Iwa-chan has never really stopped you.

Sometimes, you wish he would.

You date not because you’re trying to forget. You date because you think they’re cute, because they’re nice, and because they deserve a chance to be with the person they like even if you can’t like them back in the same way. It’s _unfair_ and you know it, you’ve always known it, but you’ve never really bothered rejecting anyone because you just can’t.

They’re beautiful, and you’re weak to teary-eyed girls. You’ve never really had enough of a reason to say no either.

You’ve never said no, not unless you can tell that they aren’t really ready for that kind of relationship, and that was just how things always worked. Iwa-chan would always roll his eyes and sigh whenever you tell him that you’re dating someone new, but he never says that you should stop, just tells you that you should be nice with them, and you just-

you wish he would.

You wish he’d stop you. You wish he could understand how it feels, wanting someone all to yourself, and you wish that he would tell you that “ _It’s enough, Oikawa. That’s enough. I’ll always be here for you._ ”

But he doesn’t. He doesn’t say it out loud, but you can tell that he’s hoping that this one will be the one for you, that this person will be the one that’ll make you happy, and you can’t help from hating it because you love _him_. You’ve always loved him.

He never stops you.

So you end it yourself.

 

* * *

 

“That’s the first I’ve heard of it,” is what you hear when you head over to the bench, Hanamaki’s voice familiar enough to your ears that you don’t have to look up from drying your face to know that it’s his voice. He and Matsukawa are eyeing Oikawa, who is sending tosses for Kindaichi to spike, like he’s got some sort of secret that they’re both itching to know.

 _Well, not that strange_ , you think as you none too gracefully take a seat on the other end of the bench. You don’t bother to ask because they’ll probably tell you about it anyway; it’s come to your attention that you’ve become sort of manager for Oikawa and all of the rumors going on around him. It’s not really a job you’d chosen to take on, but you suppose there’s really nothing you can do about it at this point. You’re already in your third year of high school, after all.

“Hey, Iwaizumi,” Matsukawa calls and you look up at him mid-sip from your bottle, before lowering the cap and setting the container between your thighs.

“Yeah?” you say, wiping at your mouth when you turn to look at him.

“Did Oikawa tell you about his last admirer? The most recent one?”

“No…at least, I don’t remember him telling me anything.” You shake your head, patting your towel against your nape for a moment before you raise an eyebrow in question at his patient look. “Why? Did something happen?”

“Something happened,” Hanamaki parrots, earning a frown of concern from you.

“Yukari-chan confessed to him,” Matsukawa begins, before turning to Hanamaki with a look.

“And he said that he already has someone he likes,” Hanamaki finishes, nodding his head in what seems to be Oikawa’s direction. You raise an eyebrow again because that’s _new_ ; Oikawa has never admitted to liking someone before, be it as a passing crush or a full-blown attraction to someone.

“Did he tell you that?” you ask, to which they both shake their hands in the negative. You’re barely able to stifle a snort of amusement at the serious expressions on their faces when they look back at you, though you somehow manage by hiding it with a harrumph. “How’d you find that out, then?”

“The girls in class were talking about it and we overheard,” Hanamaki says with a shrug. “We haven’t confirmed with the person himself yet, so it’s possible that it’s just a rumor.”

“Has Oikawa said anything to you about anyone special?” Matsukawa asks, propping up a foot to rest it on his thigh. “He just broke up with Aya-chan, didn’t he?”

“That’s true,” Hanamaki says, looking almost solemn when he nods. “What happened with that, by the way?”

“She got annoyed that he spent more of his time playing volleyball,” you answer promptly, to which they both nod again- in understanding, this time, going by the knowing looks on their faces. You sigh and sit back, leaning on your propped up arms as you try to recall Oikawa hinting at liking someone special. “And he hasn’t said anything about anyone special,” you say eventually, shifting again so that you’re leaning forward with your elbows resting on your thighs. “But he might just be keeping it a secret.” Then you grin, and Hanamaki and Matsukawa grin back, as though already figuring out what you’re going to say. “It’d be pretty embarrassing if the person he likes doesn’t actually like him back, wouldn’t it? That’d be a blow to his reputation.”

“Karma for all those broken hearts, maybe,” Matsukawa says.

“It’s sad, but still sort of funny,” Hanamaki agrees.

You laugh, and say, “You guys are terrible,” even though you were the one who suggested the idea in the first place.

“So are you, Iwaizumi,” Matsukawa points out, almost as if he’d read your mind, to which you let escape a snort of laughter.

You sort of are. Terrible, that is.

(There’s a part of you that wants to feel jealous that Oikawa has someone he likes, because you know that that’s what happens when you’re in love with someone. It’s fine- it’s _normal_ to feel jealous when you know that he isn’t yours, especially when there’s someone else out there that he could have already devoted all of his affection to.

But you don’t. You just hope that the person he likes reciprocates those feelings, because you want him to be happy. More than anything else in the world, you just want him to actually feel proud and good about something.

You wonder if you just suck at the whole “falling in love” thing, but. You don’t really know enough to be the judge of that.)

 

* * *

 

It’s the first time you’ve ever said it aloud, and you think you feel sort of nauseous. Or, well, maybe _not_ nauseous; giddy in the chest, perhaps? Your stomach feels like it’s being strangled by your intestines and your heart is beating in overtime, and you think you may have a heart attack if this goes on.

What a way to die.

She- Yukari-chan, that is- had gotten flustered, wide-eyed, stars sparkling in her eyes like silver glitter when you’d told her that you already had someone you liked. She’d nodded then, a little dazed, and you think it might have actually gone well, for once. It’s the first time you’ve ever admitted to anyone that your heart was already taken, reserved for someone else, and it feels both freeing and suffocating because it’s _real_ , now. It’s not just a secret, not something you can deny because only _you_ knew about it, and…

It’s real.

You’re in love with him.

It’s stupid, really, how you can’t even hide the wide grin on your face with the school uniform you’re changing into. Iwa-chan doesn’t even ask about it when he notices, just raises an eyebrow like he’s worried about your sanity, and you grin a little wider. He has no idea, does he? He has _no idea_ that you’re in love with him, that you’d rejected a really nice and very pretty girl for him, just because you’re in love with his dense self.

You hum a familiar tune as you get dressed.

You’ll let him know someday. Not _now_ , not yet, but someday.

It’s too soon to tell him anything, and riding on the adrenaline of your first admission of your feelings won’t end well. You know that much, at least.

 

* * *

 

 “So,” you begin, looking forward and up at the road leading to home as you walk with Oikawa by your side, “you like someone?”

Oikawa makes a sound that makes it seem like he’s choking, and you turn to him out of concern. It’s barely been a second of your speaking the question aloud and he’s already looking a little pale, eyes wide and lips quivering until he presses them together in a firm and faked smile. “What made you think that, Iwa-chan?”

“There is, then,” you say instead of answering the question, raising an eyebrow when a flash of _something_ passes in Oikawa’s eyes. You frown, letting out an exasperated sigh before saying, “What’s that look for? I’m not gonna judge you for actually _liking_ someone. I’m not _you_.”

“Rude,” he sniffs, pressing a hand to his chest in mock-hurt. “That’s so rude, Iwa-chan. I didn’t even say anything mean to you today!”

 _Ah, so that was why things felt weird_ , you think, before turning away from Oikawa with a grimace. What does it even _say_ about you when you’re bothered by how he didn’t make fun of you for a whole day?

_I’m an idiot. I’m wrong in the head somewhere, that’s what._

“You’re right,” you say, voice coming out in a low tone as you turn your gaze back to the road before you. “I almost didn’t notice that.” Then, before Oikawa can say anything about it, you add, “So, who’s the unfortunate girl you’ve set your eyes on?”

“Unfortunate-!” Oikawa sputters, palm flat on his chest as he backs a step away from you. You grin, because Oikawa acting offended about something is almost always entertaining. “Anyone who can manage to capture the heart of someone as dashing and handsome as me is a very lucky person, y’know!”

“You just keep telling yourself that,” you say, the words automatic in your mouth when you snicker at his pouty expression. “Honestly,” you say, turning away as you turn down the speed of your walking, “anyone who can manage to capture _you_ must be one hell of a person.”

“They are,” Oikawa murmurs by your side. You look up at him, blinking in surprise when you find him staring down at the road, gaze sharp and lips pressed into a firm line. Then, as if he hasn’t just said anything weird, he straightens up and shoots you one of his brightest (and fakest) smiles. “Why are you so curious, Iwa-chan? It’s not like you.”

“Huh,” you hum, frowning a bit as you watch the smile on his face transform into something a little more…genuine. Curious, maybe. “Guess not. Well,” you sigh, slapping him in the back with a rough hand and completely ignoring his yelp of complaint, “good luck on getting her, then. Though I don’t think you’ll need it.”

“Is Iwa-chan acknowledging my attractiveness?” Oikawa gasps, the hand that had been on his chest just earlier rising up to cover his mouth. “Did you finally realize how handsome and charming I am?”

“You’ve always been charming; it’s why you have so many fan-girls,” you say as an attempt to catch him off guard. He goes quiet at that, stopping in the middle of the road, and you find that you’ve succeeded when you turn to find him staring at you like you just said something completely unbelievable.

Plus, he’s blushing.

You grin. Satisfaction has never felt quite as good as it does now, though that’s probably because of how much of a rarity it is to see Oikawa blushing. “What, you’re getting embarrassed now? You said it yourself, didn’t you?”

“I-I didn’t think Iwa-chan would agree!” he cries, the splash of red reaching up to his ears as he jogs after you. “You’re never nice to me!”

You stop without warning and he bumps into you, a grunt escaping his lips when his chest makes impact with your back. “Iwa-chan, what-”

“Never?” you ask, turning your head just enough so you can look at his face. “I’m _never_ nice to you?”

He hesitates at that. “Okay, _sometimes_ you are, but mostly-”

“I’m kidding,” you huff, smiling for a moment before you start walking again. “Don’t get too wound up just because I figured out that you have someone you like, Oikawa.”

“ _Mean_ ,” he says in a grumble, shoving both of his hands into his pockets as he nudges your shoulder with his. “But, Iwa-chan?”

You hum your acknowledgment. “Mm?”

“Don’t you want to know who it is?”

You pause in your steps, considering the idea in your head. Oikawa does the same and, judging from the intense look on his face, he’s waiting for an honest and serious answer. He’s probably just- antsy? Excited?- _eager_ , maybe, to tell you that there’s someone he likes enough to reject a cute girl. It’s a novelty and you _both_ know it, though you don’t know why he’d tell _you_ of all people.

 _Do_ you want to know who he likes? Even when you’ve already figured out that you’re in love with him like the idiot you are?

_Does it even matter? It’s not like it’ll change anything._

“Nah,” you say with a shrug. You start walking again and Oikawa does the same, his arm brushing against yours when he steps closer to you. “It’s not like you have to tell me everything that’s going on with you. Though I have to admit,” you say, looking up at the sky for a moment before you turn an inquisitive look his way, “I’m sort of curious about what kind of person she is. You’ve dated a lot of girls but you’ve never really- well, _liked_ them enough.”

“I guess not,” he says, lips pursed as he pauses walking to stand in front of the gate to his house. “The person I like is…” he trails off, pressing his lips together as he looks down at the ground, “strong.”

“…strong,” you repeat, eyebrows furrowing in mild disbelief. _Strong? What kind of positive trait is that?_

“Irritable, has a cute smile, and very reliable,” Oikawa adds, looking up at you with a weird gleam in his eyes. “I’m not really sure why I like them so much, actually.”

“Sounds like a handful,” you say, confused at the way Oikawa just keeps _staring_ at you like he wants you to get something. _Sure_ , it’s not that weird for you to understand what he’s thinking with just one glance at his face, but this isn’t exactly the context that you’re familiar with when trying to figure him out. His thoughts during volleyball games are easy to understand because you’ve played with him for long enough to know how he works; his thoughts on romance are not. You don’t get why he’d think that you’d figure this one out just as easily as you would his thoughts on Ushijima. “Are you sure you actually like this person and you weren’t just influenced into it because they liked you first?”

“I don’t even know if they like me back, actually,” Oikawa says, lips pursed again as he brings out his keys from his pocket. “It’s annoying.”

You barely manage to stifle a snort of laughter at the irritation gleaming bright in his eyes. “Then they might just be the right person for you. You need someone who won’t keep fawning over you all the time.”

“Maybe,” he hums, slotting his key into their gate’s lock and turning it. Just before pushing the gate open, with his head lowered and his hair hiding his eyes, he asks you, “Won’t it be lonely for you, Iwa-chan?”

“Lonely?” you parrot, frowning when he turns his head away. Why is he acting so _weird_ about this whole thing? “Why? It’s not like you’ve never dated before this.”

“But if I date this person, it’ll be different, won’t it?” He raises his head and something like hurt flashes like lightning in his eyes, too quick for you to be completely sure about it. “Because I’d like them a lot. We might not hang out that much anymore.”

“As if we hung out that much before you started dating,” you retort, resting one hand on your waist as you lean with most of your weight on your right foot. Oikawa keeps looking at you, gaze feeling a mixture of cold and warm on your skin that you can’t help from shifting your weight to your other foot out of nervousness. Feeling restless at the intensity of his gaze, you ask, “ _What_? Why does it matter, Shittykawa? I’d-” you hesitate, unsure if honesty is the best way to go about it, before sighing and shaking your head in annoyance. As embarrassing as it would likely sound, especially when you know how Oikawa likes to tease you about these things, the least you can offer him is your sincerity. So you say, pursing your lips a bit, “I’d be happy for you, alright? I wouldn’t hold you back if you wanted to date whoever. I’ve _never_ held you back, you idiot.” You wrinkle your nose in irritation when Oikawa keeps _staring_ instead of actually saying anything. “Will you stop _looking_ at me like that? I’m not gonna abandon you just because you like someone!”

“That’s such an Iwa-chan thing to say,” he says with a laugh, _finally_ , and you huff.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He smiles, and it isn’t quite fake as it is _sad_. You bite the inside of your cheek in annoyance because you just don’t _understand_ what the hell’s wrong with him. “Nothing, Iwa-chan. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“We’re gonna talk about this,” you say instead of reciprocating the words of dismissal, shooting a glare his way when he opens his mouth to complain. “We _will_ , Oikawa. Just…not now.” _It doesn’t look like you’re ready to tell me anything just yet. I can wait. That’s what friends do, right?_

Oikawa smiles, and you can’t tell if he’s relieved or just- tired. You _hate_ not being able to figure it out. “Fine, Iwa-chan,” he tells you, reaching out a clenched fist to bump you in the shoulder, before turning to head for his house. You shake your head at the dismissal but you go anyway, because there’s really not much else you can do at this point.

You wish you can understand what’s wrong, because it’s not like Oikawa to just…to go from grinning like an idiot to what he was before he left, smile wobbly like you’d just said something wrong.

_God damn it. Why can’t he make things easy for me, just this once?_

 

* * *

  

It takes a week before Iwa-chan gives in, and you’re a little surprised that he asks you via phone instead of…well, in person. He won’t be able to tell if you’re lying or not if he can’t see you, after all- but maybe that’s exactly why. Maybe he knows that you’d feel more comfortable telling him like this, with only his voice in your ear and your voice in his without your gaze wandering everywhere because you can’t bring yourself to look at him.

“ _Will you tell me now?_ ”

“Tell you what, Iwa-chan?” You smile when you hear the growl of annoyance on the other line, a giggle escaping your lips when you flop back down onto your bed with a bitten back “oof”.

“ _You know what._ ”

“Nooooo,” you drawl, grinning when he sighs sharply in response. “I really don’t, Iwa-chan! You have to be more specific.”

“ _...last week, when we were talking about the girl you liked._ ”

 _Girl_ , he says. You sigh, chest heaving with the slow inhale and exhale that you do. “Hmm, I can’t really remember,” you say, being deliberately difficult because you’re annoyed that Iwa-chan is too damn _dense_. Any other person would have figured it out by now!

“ _Shittykawa!_ ” he snarls, making you wince at the volume of his voice as you bring the phone away from your ear. Hesitantly, once you’ve figured that he won’t yell again, you bring the phone closer again just in time to hear him say, “- _can’t believe I have to deal with this shit. You know what the fuck I’m talking about. You looked- you looked miserable, alright? You looked like I fucking stole your milk bread when I told you I’d be happy for you._ ”

“…it’s not that, Iwa-chan,” you say, having waited for his breathing to calm before you spoke. “I’m just…”

“ _Just what?_ ”

“Lonely,” you mutter, turning over to your side and letting your phone rest between your ear and your pillow. “It feels lonely.”

“… _what?_ ” There’s the sound of garment rustling; Iwa-chan is probably sitting up and scratching at his hair in annoyance because he’s having a hard time figuring you out. You smile wryly at the image. “ _Why would you feel lonely? I don’t get you._ ”

“You know,” you say, rolling back over until you’re lying on your back, your left hand holding your phone to your ear, “I’d probably get really lonely when Iwa-chan gets a girlfriend.”

“ _Hah?_ ”

“We wouldn’t be able to hang out anymore, and you’d probably spend more of your time with her than with me,” you say, trying to laugh it off even when the idea makes you feel sick to your stomach. You swallow, before saying, “It makes me feel lonely, Iwa-chan.”

_It feels so lonely, knowing that you wouldn’t mind if someone took me away from you._

“ _Stupidkawa._ ”

“I’m not stupid,” you grumble, pursing your lips as you look up at your star-littered ceiling. “You’re just insensitive, Iwa-chan. So heartless.”

“ _God, I fucking hate you._ ” He sighs, louder this time, before you hear the slap of skin against skin- probably his hand over his face. You bite your lips at his words, knowing better than to believe that he means that. He says, frustration teeming in the tone of his voice, “ _I want you to be happy, alright? That’s what matters to me. I don’t mind if we spend less time together. It’s not like we’d stop being friends just because you found someone you like, you idiot. And we’re not going to stop hanging out just because you’ll date someone. Jeez, how have you not figured that out already? Are you that stupid?_ ”

You are not going to cry.

You are not-                                                                                                                                                                 

okay, _fine_ , you’re going to cry a little bit.

“ _…Oikawa?”_ There’s the sound of something thudding against wood, then a muffled curse. “ _Shit. Are you okay?_ ”

“Stupid,” you sniffle, trying to force your lips to stop trembling as you press your hand to your eyes to keep the tears from falling. “You’re so stupid, Iwa-chan.”

“ _What do you-_ ”

“You made me cry,” you confess, laughing a little until it turns into a hiccup. “You made me _cry_ , Iwa-chan! You’re so mean. You did this on purpose!”

“ _As if I did,_ ” he grumbles, and you snicker. “ _Don’t- don’t cry. There’s nothing to cry about, I don’t even know why you’re bawling about this._ ”

“It’s because Iwa-chan is a sap.”

“ _I am not a sap!_ ” he says; you imagine him scowling, and you giggle again. “ _Damn it. This is what happens when I’m actually honest with you. You make fun of me._ ”

“I’m not,” you say, voice soft- and you’re torn on whether you want Iwa-chan to realize that you love him or not, because it’d be painful to be rejected but you also want him to know that he’s _that_ important to you. “I’m really not, Iwa-chan. I-”

_I love you. I love you. You’re unbelievably dense and stupid when it comes to what’s already obvious, but you wouldn’t be you if you knew._

_Volleyball would never be as fun if you weren’t playing with me._

“ _You what?_ ”

“I think it’s nice when you’re honest,” you murmur like it’s a secret, smiling weakly as you close your eyes. You imagine Iwa-chan sitting on his bed, running a hand through his hair while he keeps the other one on his phone. You stifle a laugh before it can come out, knowing well enough that Iwa-chan might take it the wrong way. “I don’t say it much, but I do like it. I don’t really hate it when you get worried about me.”

“ _…are we really doing this?_ ”

You blink in confusion. “What?”

“ _Is this honesty hour?_ ”

“Well, no,” you say, smile growing a little wider at the soft laughter on the other line. “But it could be. Is there something you want to be honest about with me, Iwa-chan?”

“ _…I think you’re an idiot. And a pain in the ass._ ”

“Hey,” you whine, wrinkling your nose in annoyance at the return to insults.

“ _But._ ”

A pause.

“But..?”

“ _I want you to be happy. You deserve it, more than anyone._ ”

You don’t have to open your eyes to know that your vision will be blurry from the tears. You sniffle a bit. “You’re such a sap, Iwa-chan,” you say, trying to will away the warmth settling in your cheeks. This is so _embarrassing_. “You really-” you hiccup, take a long inhale, before sighing a heavy breath and continuing, “You must really love me a lot, if you think that about me.”

“ _Shut up._ ”                                                                                                                         

You laugh. “That’s not a no,” you tease, grinning as you wipe at the tears trailing down your face.

“ _I never said it was._ ”

There’s a long silence.

_What?_

“ _If you make fun of me, I swear to god Oikawa-_ ”

“No! No, I,” you stutter, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks unbidden, “I won’t.” You bite your lip, unsure if you should say it back because what if he can tell that you mean it as more than it is? What if it becomes awkward? What if you unintentionally let your feelings out and you can’t take your words back? “I-”

“ _You don’t have to say it back,_ ” Iwa-chan says, almost in a panic, and you bite your tongue. “ _It’s embarrassing enough as it is._ ”

“But I do. Love you, I mean,” you murmur, chewing on your lower lip when you get silence as a response. You wipe away your tears, inhaling slowly before letting the breath out in a sigh. “Iwa-chan?”

“ _God_ ,” he breathes, voice sounding rough until he clears his throat. “ _This is not what I signed up for when I called you._ ”

“What, is this too emotional for you? This is why you’re such a brute, Iwa-chan,” you tease, even when you feel your heart threatening to burst in your chest. Iwa-chan _loves_ you. You should at least be allowed to feel some happiness because of that. “Being so emotionally stunted is why you get constipated a lot, you know.”

“ _Thanks for the tip._ ” You laugh at the sarcasm practically _oozing_ through the phone. “ _You’re a dumbass._ ”

“But you love me, right?” you ask, nervously picking at your lip with your free hand as you wait for his response.

There’s a long moment of silence before Iwa-chan says, sounding almost resigned to his fate, “ _You’re never gonna let this go, are you?_ ”

You grin. “Nope!”                                                                                                                                   

He sighs. You can almost imagine him rolling his eyes while he’s at it. “ _Yeah._ ”

Feeling braver, you ask, “Yeah what?”

“ _My god, you’re an asshole. Yeah, I love your stupid ass because I’m a fucking idiot. Now go the fuck to sleep._ ”

You stifle a laugh with your hand covering the lower half of your face, the grin on your lips practically _aching_ with how wide it is. “I will, Iwa-chan.” You pause, before adding with a soft smile, “I love you too, even when you’re mean to me.”

“ _Dumbass._ ”

_Click._

You may or may not have rolled around your bed and screamed incoherently into your pillow like a lunatic the moment you set your phone down, but even if you did, you think you have good reason for it.

Iwa-chan said that he _loves_ you, after all.

 

* * *

                                                                                                                                                                                     

Oikawa being cheeky and smug at you was something you’d expected the moment you let on that you love him. For all that he is cunning and subdued when it comes to his volleyball tactics, he’s an absolute _brat_ when he has something to hold over someone’s head. It’s annoying, and it pisses you off, and what pisses you off even more is that you _know_ that he’s like that but you love his stupid ass anyway.

So you’re kind of an idiot too, considering all of that.

But he’s not smug when you pick him up to head for school. He’s not _cheeky_ as he is…just…happy, maybe. His smile is wide, far more real than you’ve ever seen it in a long while, and there’s a slight skip in his step when he calls you by the moniker you’ve grown used to since elementary school. The change probably wouldn’t be all that noticeable for someone who doesn’t know him well, but considering how you’ve got almost a decade of being with him, it’s sort of inevitable that you’d notice.

Considering the lateness of your conversation with him last night, and considering how the change in his mood didn’t start happening until this morning, you have a guess that your conversation with him has caused this. If it’s the admission to your concern for him, the confession that you hadn’t intended to make but you _did_ because you panicked when he started crying, or just the acknowledgment that you want him _happy_ , you’re not sure, but there’s a niggling idea in the back of your mind that it’s still just something _you_ said.

You think you may get sick just _thinking_ about it.

“Something wrong, Iwa-chan?” Oikawa asks you, actually letting the concern show in the furrow of his brows when he slows back a step to walk alongside you. “You’re being slower than usual.”

“I’m reserving my energy,” you lie through your teeth. Oikawa seems to pick up on it when he frowns and you clench your jaw, teeth gritting in annoyance at how easy it is for him to read you. “It’s fine, Asskawa,” you huff, shoving him away before he can get too close, “I’m just tired.”

“…it wasn’t because of me, was it?” he asks, hesitation making him stumble back a step before he catches up to your quickening pace. “Iwa-chan?”

“As if I’d get tired just from a phone call,” you tell him, frowning when you notice the flash of guilt in brown eyes. “ _Idiotkawa_. You didn’t care before, why do you care now?”

“You told me you love me,” he says, expression blank- as if he’s waiting for you to react before he can decide on whether to smile or not. You glare because of _all the things_ he could have brought up, it had to be _that_. It’s as if he _knows_ the discomfort and regret crawling all over you and under your skin at having let it slip that one time.

“I _did_ ,” you bite out, feeling the heat spreading on your cheeks in a blush that earns you a cheeky smile from Oikawa, “but I’d really rather we not talk about it, ever again.”

“Why?” he asks, like it isn’t obvious already. Then, just because he adores torturing you, he goes on to say, “Are you embarrassed, Iwa-chan? You were the one who told me first.”

You groan in annoyance. “I know that! I kind of regret it,” you grumble, kicking at a pebble in your way as you stick your hands into your pockets. “Because now you won’t _shut up_ about it.”

“But that’s because you usually wouldn’t say that kind of thing.”

“Because it’s _embarrassing_ and you’re an asshole who likes jerking me around!” you snap while turning to him, before wincing in regret when you see his surprised flinch at the high tone of your voice. “Shit. I’m not- I’m _not_ gonna hit you, so just,” you wave a hand, hoping he’ll understand that you just want him to relax. He seems to get it when the tenseness in his shoulders eases, though his gaze is still wary when he returns to your side as you walk. “Sorry.”

“…it’s fine.”

You jerk when you feel solid warmth resting on your shoulder, before looking up at him with a squinty-eyed gaze when he just smiles like there’s nothing weird about the hand he has clasped over your shoulder. “It’s really fine, I promise. I’m just treasuring it, you know? I’m not just trying to tease you. I know you don’t say that kind of thing often, so it’s sort of…”

“Well,” you mumble, lips pursed as you brush his hand off you, “it’s fine, I guess. So long as you don’t let anyone else hear, anyway.”

Oikawa’s smiling when you look up at him, a familiar gleam in his eyes that makes it look like he’s trying to be sly about something. “Is it our little secret, Iwa-chan? It feels kind of illicit when you say it like that.”

“Dumbass,” you snap, elbowing him in the side when all he does is laugh at you. “I’m just saying that it’s not- it’s not really normal. You’re supposed to save that sort of thing for girls, not…you know.”

“Friends?” he fills in, an odd quality to his smile when he turns to you.

You frown in bemusement at him. “Yeah,” you say, hesitant, until you let escape a sigh and turn your gaze away from him. “I’m not saying that it’s bad, or anything, to say that sort of thing. It’s just…weird, when a guy says that to another guy.”

“But it’s not when it’s two girls, is it?” Oikawa hums, looking thoughtful when you sneak a glance at his profile. “I’m kind of jealous.”

You laugh, and so does he. “And _you_ called me a sap,” you say, grinning when you nudge him in the arm with an elbow. “I’m not the one getting jealous of girls because they can say that sort of thing without feeling embarrassed.”

“I’m not embarrassed, though,” Oikawa huffs, looking childish when he wrinkles his nose and pouts at you. You laugh again because he looks _ridiculous._ “I could say it right now.”

“That’s because you’re shameless, Trashykawa,” you tease, smirking when he makes a noise signaling his offense at the remark. “Anyone else would be embarrassed about it.”

“I’m just honest about my feelings, there’s nothing shameless about that,” he says, lips pursed when he nudges you with his shoulder pressing against yours. You scoff at the blatant lie but you don’t look at him; something’s telling you that it’s better to keep your gaze away, lest you find something in his eyes that you’d really rather not see. You don’t know just what it is you’re avoiding by not looking at him, but you have a feeling you’ll find it out eventually- if only because Oikawa’s entirety is screaming for a secret begging to be told.

He says, tone completely nonchalant that you almost don’t catch what he’s saying, “I do love you. I’ll never be too embarrassed to say that.”

And, probably having realized that you’re still digesting what he just said, he presses a sloppy kiss to your temple- like a fucking _kid_ \- before running away laughing like the fucking idiot that he is.

You think, just as you start wiping at the saliva on your skin,

_I’m in love with a complete dumbass and I think I’m starting to regret it, but it’s a little too late for that now._

 

* * *

  

It takes a week before someone notices the change in you, from a captain determined to win to a captain determined to absolutely _destroy_ , and it isn’t Iwa-chan who asks you about it. You get the feeling that he’s noticed it too; how can he not, when you’ve felt the warmth of his stare since the start of the week for every time he was off the court and you were giving everyone tosses? But he’s never mentioned it, never even attempted to hint that he’s concerned about you, and you have to admit: you’re disappointed that he won’t push. He’d usually interrogate you by now, worry drawing out the wrinkles between his eyebrows and on the bridge of his nose, but all he does is _observe_.

You’re tempted to just kiss him right on the mouth to get rid of the butterflies making their home in your stomach, but the portion of sanity you have left tells you not to do it because Iwa-chan will likely just punch you in the face if you so much as tried to peck him on the lips.

It’d be entirely unromantic, and you really don’t want your first kiss with him to be a kiss with his fist.

“You’re being more chipper than normal,” Makki says, an eyebrow raised when you turn to look up at him from your forward-stretching. You sit up, straightening your back and rolling your shoulders as an attempt to work out the kinks in your back. He adds when you don’t say anything, “Did mystery girl finally say yes?”

“Mystery girl?” you parrot, looking up at Iwa-chan in question. You have a feeling you know what he’s talking about- it isn’t _that_ hard to figure out, seeing as it was the reason for Iwa-chan almost giving you a heart attack a few weeks before-, but there’s no harm in having it confirmed for you.

Iwa-chan shrugs. “Strong, reliable, has a cute smile? That girl.”

Heat prickles at the skin of your cheeks and you gawp at him, blinking in both betrayal and surprise when he just _snickers_ in response. The _nerve_ of him, revealing information you’d trusted with him and him alone! You cry out in offense, “ _Iwa-chan_! It’s supposed to be a mystery!”

“It still is? No one knows her name,” Iwa-chan says, eyes practically _twinkling_ in their amusement at your expense. “All we knows is that she’s-”

“Enough!” you yell, the sound coming out as half a whine when Iwa-chan and Makki share a look with each other. “You’re cruel, Iwa-chan!”

“Hey, I won’t even know who she is just from that description,” Makki says, both hands raised in an imitation of surrender when you turn to him. “It’s too vague, and you didn’t even say what year she was. For all we know, she isn’t even a student here.”

“She’d have to be,” Iwa-chan says, and you shoot him a squinty-eyed look. He just smirks because he’s absolutely _rude._ “Considering how this guy is either in school, in the gym, or at home, there really isn’t anywhere else for him to meet her. He spends almost all of his time in the gym too, so I’d be surprised if she wasn’t one of his fans or classmates.”

“Just for that, I’m never telling you their name,” you huff, folding your legs and your arms until they’re both crossed in front of you, with your arms resting over your chest. “You’ll _never_ know, Iwa-chan.”

“You didn’t answer the question, though,” Mattsun points out, having mostly been silent because he’d been busy drinking from his water bottle. You turn to look at him, lips pursed still as you raise an eyebrow in question. “Are you and mystery girl a thing, now? It would explain why you’re more- well, _vicious_ during practice.”

“It’s a bit scary, honestly,” Makki adds, nudging Mattsun with a leg to move on the bench so he can sit to his left and in the center of the bench. As he sits, stretching his legs out, he says, “To think, a girl could have this much power over you and your motivation. She must be really cute.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” you murmur under your breath, peeking up at Iwa-chan, who raises an eyebrow when he notices you looking at him. “They’re…average, at most.”

“Whoa, seriously?” Mattsun asks, not looking at all surprised going by the deadpan expression on his face. You roll your eyes at the sly smirk growing on his face. “I didn’t think you’d settle for less, Oikawa. You seem the type to choose someone who’s at your level.”

“Well, they kind of are,” you say, swallowing when you feel Iwa-chan nudging you to move with his foot against your hip. You move, scooting forward a bit until there’s enough space for Iwa-chan to be able to sit on the bench. “Just not in the looks department.”

“This is a first,” Iwa-chan says, surprising a yelp out of you when he ruffles your hair with a roughness that you are far too familiar with. He’s smirking when he pulls his hand away, the expression looking oddly attractive on his face that you have to avoid it with a huff of forced annoyance. Iwa-chan adds, “Isn’t that rude to the person you like? Saying that they aren’t cute, and that they’re just average.”

“Looks aren’t everything,” you say in defense, before pressing your lips together and furrowing your brows at the oddity of the conversation. Are you actually _defending_ Iwa-chan to his face? And he doesn’t even know?

“That’s surprising, coming from you,” Makki says, an odd, sort of _knowing_ gleam in his eyes when you turn to look at him. “You care a lot about how you look, after all.”

“Just because I think that my looks are important doesn’t have to mean that it applies to the person I like too,” you argue, before biting the inside of your cheek when Makki’s smile widens in response, almost as if he’s figured you out. You really, _really_ hope he hasn’t, because if he has you’re pretty sure you’ll slap yourself in embarrassment because _Iwa-chan_ is supposed to know first!

“You’re avoiding the question,” Mattsun points out again, and you sigh. Out of relief, or exasperation, you can’t really tell anymore.

“We aren’t…together,” you say lamely, pressing your lips together in a firm line when all three of them, Iwa-chan and Makki and Mattsun, raise their eyebrows in disbelief. “Really! We just reached an understanding, sort of,” you mumble the last word, lips pursing as you look away.

“What kind of understanding?” Iwa-chan asks, and _god_ this is really embarrassing. You’re honestly embarrassed for Iwa-chan’s sake, because you’re talking about him and he has no idea even though he was _clearly_ the only one you’ve had any heart-to-heart talks to in the past few days. What did you even _do_ in your past lives to merit this kind of torture?

You make a face, and he frowns. “They said that they like me too,” you begin, hesitating at the intensely curious looks on their faces, “but I’m not sure if it’s in the same way.”

“Just ask?” Iwa-chan asks, looking bemused about your problem.

_Just ask!_

You really want to cry, because this is ridiculous. Absolutely stupid. The worst problem you’ve had in your entire life.

“It’s not that _easy_ , Iwa-chan,” you grumble, wrinkling your nose in annoyance as you get up to a stand. With your hands on your hips, you say, “This is _exactly_ why you don’t have a girlfriend! You have no delicacy at all!”

“Now now, no need for violence,” Mattsun says, both of his hands on Iwa-chan’s shoulder when he tries to get up to- well, pummel you, most likely. You smile brightly despite the threat practically _oozing_ from his aura. “And Oikawa, you shouldn’t rile him up like that if you don’t want to get beat up.”

“It’s too fun to stop, though,” you say, grinning when Iwa-chan actually _growls_ under his breath. It’s a weird sound, admittedly, but you think you can see the appeal of it in a different context. Maybe.

And maybe you shouldn’t be thinking about that right now, because it’d be awkward to explain the physical evidence resulting from that.

“I would ask you if you’re an M-type, but we all already know that you’re actually an S kind of guy,” Makki says, smiling none too innocently as he sneaks a glance at Iwa-chan that you _know_ he knows you’ve noticed. “Hey, speaking of,” he begins, catching both Mattsun’s and Iwa-chan’s attention, “what would Iwaizumi be? If Oikawa’s an S.”

“Hm,” Mattsun hums, looking oddly serious while considering such a stupid question. “He’d be an S too, wouldn’t he? He hits Oikawa a lot.”

“That doesn’t mean he enjoys it.”

“Hm…true.”

“Why are we talking about this?” Iwa-chan asks, looking a lot like he’s constipated with the scrunched up face that he’s making at Mattsun and Makki. You stifle an unattractive snort of laughter, only barely managing it when Iwa-chan shoots you a look. “What does this have to do with anything?”

“This is a very serious discussion, Iwaizumi,” Makki says. “This could help us understand what kind of person Oikawa likes.”

All too quickly, the smile on your lips transforms into a gape when Makki sends a none too innocent smile your way.

_He knows._

Panic starts to well up in your chest, cold and constricting on your lungs, until you grab at the garment covering your chest and squeeze your fist tightly enough that you can feel your fingers digging into your skin. _Idiot!_ you think to yourself, hiding a wince at your own overreaction to such a small thing. Subtly, you eye the easy smile he has on his face, trying to see if he plans to do anything with the information he has, before squinting at him when he opens his hands in response as if to say that he’s…not really going to do anything, perhaps?

You sigh, flattening your hand over your chest when you breathe, before lowering your hand and walking towards them to take up what little space there is beside Iwa-chan on the bench. And, as if he hadn’t just dropped a(n admittedly subtle) bomb on you, Makki turns to Mattsun and asks, “So, what do you think?”

Mattsun rubs at his chin with a finger, seemingly in thought as he looks down at the floor. Then, looking back at Makki, he asks, “Well, S-types are usually carnivores, right?”

“Iwaizumi doesn’t seem much like a carnivore.”

“A bacon-wrapped asparagus type, maybe.”

“Huh, yeah.”

“So, M-type?”

“I don’t understand you people,” Iwa-chan sighs, rubbing at the crease between his eyebrows as he leans over and props his elbows on his thighs. “I really don’t get where this conversation came from. And what the hell is a bacon-wrapped asparagus?”

“We’re trying to figure out how you and Oikawa get along, obviously,” Mattsun says, to which Makki nods. “If you’re an M and he’s an S, it’d make sense why you get along so well. And a bacon-wrapped asparagus type is a herbivore who looks like a carnivore.”

“ _Why_ would I be an M?” Iwa-chan grumbles.

“It’s because you’re just a big softie underneath that grizzly exterior, Iwa-chan,” you answer with a grin, before dropping it in favor of a frown when Iwa-chan shoots a glare your way. “What? It was a compliment!”

“You wouldn’t notice from how manly and cool he is, but Iwaizumi really does have a soft center, doesn’t he,” Mattsun comments, smiling widely when Iwa-chan makes a face at him like he’s been betrayed. “Girls love that stuff, y’know. I’m surprised no one’s confessed yet.”

“They’re intimidated by how grumpy he looks,” Makki says, before grunting in pretend-pain when Iwa-chan shoves an elbow into his side. “Ow.”

“Don’t even start, Hanamaki,” Iwa-chan grumbles, nose wrinkling in annoyance when he pulls his arm back to prop it behind him on the bench. “I’d expect that from Oikawa, but not from you.”

“Aw, Iwa-chan, do you actually like it when I tease you?” you say, smiling widely as you try to rest your chin on his shoulder- only to fail when he nigh automatically whacks the back of his hand towards your face. “Geh!” you yelp, rubbing a hand over your stinging nose, “Iwa-chan, how cruel! I was just trying to be affectionate!”

“It’s hot and you’re sweaty,” Iwa-chan says, the words clipped in his mouth when he lowers his hand again. “Also, your chin is pointy and I don’t want that on my shoulder.”

“Mean!”

“Ah, it’s a lover’s quarrel,” Mattsun says, completely deadpan in both tone and facial expression when he looks at you both. You turn your nose up because Mattsun is being especially rude, knowing that Iwa-chan is slighting you but doing nothing to defend your honor.

“It’s a lover’s quarrel,” Makki repeats in a similar way, before breaking character and grinning when Iwa-chan shoves him with his entire body into Mattsun, who budges by a millimeter before going completely still to keep them both from falling off the bench. “No need to be so defensive, Iwaizumi-kun,” he sing-songs, snickering even when Iwa-chan punches him in the upper arm. “Ouch.”

“You’re all idiots,” Iwa-chan announces, before shoving you away and getting to his feet with a huff. “I’m gonna go change,” he says, raising an eyebrow when the three of you just blink at him. “What? Don’t you guys want to get home already?”

“Good point,” Mattsun agrees, standing up, before turning to look at Makki with a raised brow. Makki shrugs and makes a shoo-ing motion with his hand, as if to say, _It’s fine, you go first._ You have a hunch that it’s because he wants to talk with you about his recent discovery, more likely because of curiosity and less of concern, and while half of you is still scared to actually admit that you’re in love with _Iwaizumi Hajime_ , of all people, the other half of you just wants to tell someone. Badly. Desperately, even.

Mattsun cocks his head, eyes narrowing for a bit, until he sighs in resignation and says, “Fine, whatever. Don’t forget to lock the gym.” Iwaizumi, knowing that you have the key to the gym, just waves his hand in that casual way he does whenever he leaves before you- though his composure is easily ruined when Mattsun swings an arm over his shoulders and tugs him close as they go.

Makki waits for them both to be out of sight before turning to you, the expression on his face far more similar to that of his game face that you can’t help from swallowing through your dry throat out of nervousness.

“So,” he begins, head cocked to one side, “Iwaizumi, huh?”

You can’t even bother to lie, at this point. Makki already knows, and you’re not dumb enough to believe that you can fool him after the reaction you had earlier. You groan and hide your face in your hands, hoping that you don’t look as warm as you feel. “Yes,” you whine into your palms, “ _yes_ , it’s Iwa-chan.”

“Mutual understanding?”

You stop. You peek through your fingers and he doesn’t look like he’s judging you as he is just…waiting for an answer.

“He told me he loved me,” you murmur, lowering your hands and twiddling your index fingers together. “And I told him that I loved him back.”

Makki raises an eyebrow. “And he still didn’t get it?”

“ _No._ ”

Makki laughs and you groan again, pressing the heel of your palms into your eyes.

“You’re fucked, Oikawa.”

“I _know_.”

 

* * *

“It’s surprising, Oikawa acting so flustered over a person,” Matsukawa comments.

You hum your agreement, before stopping to tug your shirt off from the back. With your shirt around your elbows, you raise your head to him just to say, “It’s like he’s never even gone on a date before, when he’s already had plenty of girlfriends.”

“Hm.”

Matsukawa doesn’t say anything else. You shrug, thinking that he just doesn’t have anything else to say, before stripping down to just your underwear. You’re quick to change into your jogging pants and shirt, not caring enough to check your hair in the mirror like certain other people would (i.e. Oikawa). You’re just about to leave; it’s not like Matsukawa needs you to wait on him, but then he speaks up and you can’t help from _freezing_ where you are because he’d just asked,

“What if it isn’t a girl?”

“Huh?” You blink, before turning back around to face him with a bemused frown. “Why would he like a guy? He’s straight.” You hesitate at the doubtful expression on Matsukawa’s face. “He is, isn’t he? We’d have noticed if he liked- or _dated_ a guy.”

Matsukawa shrugs. “Maybe it’s his first time to like a guy, who knows,” he says, as if it’s perfectly normal for their _charming_ captain to just…start swinging the other way like it was nothing. You squint in confusion, and Matsukawa adds, “Would you be disgusted? If he does like a guy.”

“His personality’s disgusting and you don’t see me running away,” you say, smiling a bit when he laughs in response. But that isn’t enough of an answer and Matsukawa knows it; you can tell that he understands from the patient look on his face. You hesitate because it’s not exactly a normal conversation, talking about a teammate’s sexuality like this, but you manage to get out, “I wouldn’t be disgusted if he’s…y’know, gay. I mean, it’s just him liking another guy. He’d still be Oikawa.”

 _And it’d be hypocritical of me to think it’s something bad,_ you don’t say, _considering how I’m in love with his sorry ass._

_I still don’t know why I am, honestly._

Matsukawa smiles. He playfully shoves at your shoulder when he walks past you, and says, “You’re really cool, you know that? I think I almost fell for you right there.”

You kick a leg right into the back of his knee and he almost buckles, to which you laugh. He’s grinning when he shoves at you again, letting you know that he’s fine with the playing around. “Don’t be ridiculous,” you say, grinning back as you shove him away with a hand to his upper arm. “I’m not even your type.”

“You’re very persuasive, Iwaizumi-san,” he says, wiggling his eyebrows in a suggestive way that you can’t help a snort of laughter.

“And you’re a dumbass,” you deadpan, before letting a hint of smile curl at the corner of your lips when he heads out before you. “Tell Oikawa to hurry up, would you?”

“I’ll tell him not to keep his boyfriend waiting,” Matsukawa concedes, smirking when you flip him off with a raised middle finger. “See you tomorrow, Iwaizumi.”

“Yeah, yeah, see you,” you say, giving him a wave and watching him go, before dropping down onto the nearest bench and heaving out a sigh. You scratch at the back of your head, trying to will away the thoughts sparking and slowly catching fire in your head. You try- _really,_ you do- not to blame Matsukawa for planting the idea in your head, that Oikawa could like a guy like that, but it all just keeps coming back to _Why couldn’t you have kept that to yourself, Matsukawa? Damn it._

You sigh again, leaning over and pressing the heel of your palms into your eyes as you rest your elbows on your knees. You were fine before that lone lightbulb in the dark recesses of your mind lit up, bringing to the forefront of your thoughts the realization that _yes_ , Oikawa has been avoiding giving an actual gender whenever you talked about his crush. And that’s fine, really. That’s all fine, because of _course_ Oikawa wouldn’t want to just stick to one side of the buffet table for admirers.

It’s fine. You’ve known him for _years_ , and you know that he loves being adored. You don’t mind that.

What you mind is the idea niggling in the back of your mind that maybe there’s…what, a one percent chance that it’s you? It’s presumptuous, you understand that much, but it would explain why Oikawa has been acting so _strangely_ lately. And he said that there was a mutual understanding between him and the person he likes, that they liked each other but Oikawa didn’t know just how much, and-

and didn’t the change in his mood happen after your night call?

You try not to groan when you slide your hands down to cover your entire face. You try and you _fail_ , because you can’t help from feeling a little sick at the idea that maybe it _is_ you.

You hope it isn’t, because if it is, then all your plans of keeping everything safe and normal between the two of you are going to be absolutely _ruined._

 

* * *

  

It takes five days.

Five days for you to gather up your strength.

Five days to worry about how Iwa-chan’s going to react.

Five days to, well, _panic_ at how stupid this entire idea is.

“Iwa-chan?” you call to him, hesitant in the face of his grumpy mood. You’re both heading home and it seemed to be a better idea to do it right before you separate, because you’re _smart_ enough, at least, to realize that it’d just be horrible if you confessed in the morning and ended up rejected. You’d have spent the entire day being pathetic, sad, and heartbroken, and _everyone_ would have noticed, because you’d have no choice but to go to class together.

“What,” he grunts, a sigh mixing with the sound of his voice as he lags behind you. You slow your pace to match his, observing him for a moment as he keeps his gaze on the floor- as he often does, you’ve noticed, when he doesn’t feel up to playing with you.

You swallow. _Now isn’t a good time to confess, huh_ , you think gloomily, chewing on your lower lip as you turn your gaze away. “…never mind. It’s nothing.”

“Don’t mess with me, Oikawa,” he snaps and you flinch in surprise, head jerking up to the sight of him glaring hotly at you. “You were gonna say something. What was it?”

You dig your teeth into your lower lip, worrying it a bit until you’re sure it’s become pink from the pressure, before saying, “I don’t think now’s a good time. You look really irritated, Iwa-chan.”

He stops walking, and blinks. You stop too, watching with hidden nervousness as he squints at you as though scrutinizing your motive for calling out to him in the first place. “…maybe I am,” he admits after a moment of tense silence, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jacket as he turns to you completely. “What’s that matter? Were you gonna say something to piss me off? If so,” he growls and you laugh nervously, “then it’s _really_ not a good time.”

“N-no, nothing like that,” you say, smiling as you wave both of your hands in dismissal at the idea. “It’s…something important. And I don’t want you to take it badly, so…”

“Then I won’t,” he says simply. You gawp at the certainty in his voice and he frowns, nose wrinkling in the most adorable way as he scratches at the back of his head. “What? If it’s important to you, then I’m not gonna get pissed. Unless it’s something stupid, like you thinking that Kageyama is better than you; I _will_ punch you then.”

“You’re so violent, Iwa-chan,” you whine, turning away and walking, making sure to be a step ahead from him so he can’t see the embarrassed heat surely showing itself on your cheeks. There’s nothing wrong with being happy that he cares so much, is there? It’s perfectly normal, even if Iwa-chan shows his concern in such an un-gentle way. “It’s no wonder girls don’t like you.”

“Just get to the point, Trashykawa!”

“Fine, fine,” you say, waving a hand at him before dropping it when he finally catches up to you. You peek at him through the corner of your eyes, noticing how he’s doing the same- but, unlike you, not doing it quite as _discreetly_. “Remember the person that I said I liked?”

“This again?” he says, frowning in something like bemusement as he returns his gaze to the road. “Yeah, I remember. What about her?”

“…it’s not a her.”

Iwa-chan doesn’t say anything.

You bite your lip, hard enough that you feel the blood waiting to bleed from a scrape of your canines, and try to breathe normally. Everything feels kind of fuzzy at the moment, like you’re drowning in nothing but air and smoke, and your heart is beating fast enough that you feel it might _burst_. It hurts. _It hurts_.

“So.”

You blink, and the haze lightens. You turn to look at him and he’s...pressing his lips together, looking nervous as he scratches at his cheek with a finger. Voice cracking, you ask, “Yes?”

“…are you gay? Because you said that it’s not a her.”

“Um.” You blink again, feeling your heart slowly starting to calm as you stop in your steps. Iwa-chan stops too, gaze brimming with curiosity and patience as he waits for your answer. “No, not really,” you answer, smiling softly at the confusion blooming on his face, “because I still like girls, Iwa-chan. They’re still very cute to me. I just…happen to like another guy. I’m bi, I think.”

“Bi?”

“Bisexual,” you clarify, biting back a giggle when Iwa-chan nods with a too-serious look on his face. “Is that,” you begin, feeling the nervousness seep into your words and _hating_ it, “is that okay with you?”

He blinks. Then he frowns, head cocking to the side like a confused bird and you have to clench your fists just to keep yourself from reacting to how oddly cute he’s acting. He says, “Yeah? It’s not like it matters to me. You like who you like, boy or girl.” Then he grins and your chest _squeezes_ , tight around your heart and lungs as he slaps a hand on your arm. “’sides, it’s not like that’s anything as bad as your personality.”

“Hey! That’s rude, Iwa-chan!” you whine, slapping his hand away and huffing when he just laughs. “Honestly! I trusted you with something like that and you’re so- so-!”

“I’ve stuck around long enough, y’know,” he says as he begins walking again, smiling at you- _softly_ , soft enough that you feel your insides melting from the heat boiling under your skin.  “That sort of thing won’t change how I feel about you.”

“You still love me, then,” you say, smiling widely at the red hues seeping through his sun-kissed cheeks. “Do you, Iwa-chan?”

“About that,” he says, clearing his throat with a fist covering his mouth, looking away from you and up in front, “I…how did you mean that, when you said it? Just. I wanted to be sure about something.”

You stop walking, your breath catching in your throat and getting stuck there as you watch him slowly turn to face you. “I mean,” he adds, unaware of the distress he’s causing you, “you said that the person told you they liked you, but you…you weren’t sure if it was in the same way. I thought, maybe…"

“If it is?” you ask, sounding far more confident than you really feel when you look him in the eye. “What then, Iwa-chan?”

He lowers his head, the palm of his hand resting over his eye as he scratches near his hairline. “I don’t know, honestly,” he admits, catching you off-guard when he looks up again and smiles a lopsided smile at you. “I do love you. It’s just…”

You squeeze your hand over the strap over your bag, feeling your nails scrape over the cloth covering your chest. “Just what?”

“I don’t…I don’t really want to change anything.”

You blink. You feel your eyes starting to sting with oncoming tears and you grit your teeth, not wanting to cry just yet. You don’t want to cry in front of him, if you can help it. “So you…you don’t feel the same?”

“ _No_ , it’s not that, it’s just…I’m,” he hesitates, fumbling for words as he shifts from one foot to another, “I mean it. The…the I love you. I’m only saying this because I want you to understand, so don’t let it get to your head, okay?” he says with a glare, only letting up on the intense look when you nod vigorously in response. “This is gonna sound really bad, and really…weird, but. You’re important to me. More than anyone else.” He’s _blushing_ , chewing on his lower lip as he says, almost in a whisper, “I just want you to be happy. That’s why I’ve stuck around for so long.”

You feel your own cheeks heat up in response, because you did _not_ expect him to say that. Ever. You’ve fantasized about him reciprocating your feelings, sure, but you never imagined he’d confess to something so _sappy_. “That’s so… _cheesy_ , Iwa-chan.”

“Shut the fuck up,” he snaps, not sounding quite as intimidating with the blush still sprinkled over his cheeks. “That’s how I feel. You can’t make fun of me for that.”

“I’m very important to you,” you clarify, smiling when he nods (somewhat grumpily) in response. “You know that I feel the same way, right?”

He blinks at that. “I,” he begins, hesitant, before adding in a murmur, “yeah. Yeah, I know.”

“But you want to keep things the same?”

He nods again. “Yeah. I’m already satisfied with what we have.”

You pout. “You don’t want to kiss me?”

“As if I would,” he spits out immediately, an automatic reaction- and you’d be offended (really, because why would anyone not _want_ to kiss you?), but he’s blushing still like he can’t even handle the _idea_ of it. “That’s- that’s something you do with your girlfriend, okay? Not with me.”

“And if I want you to be my boyfriend?”

All too quickly, his gaze hardens on you, eyes narrowing in a way that makes your smile falter. “Sorry,” he says, tone utterly serious that you can’t help from feeling your heart break, just for a bit, “I can’t. I can be anything but that.”

“But you love me,” you say, holding onto that hope even when you know just how stubborn Iwa-chan is. “Right?”

He huffs, crossing his arms over his chest as he looks at you. “Yeah, I do. Are you never going to let that go?”

“Of course I won’t,” you say. Iwa-chan blinks as though he’s surprised, like he doesn’t already know just how determined you can get when you want something. Like there’s anything surprising about the tears pricking at your eyes because it _hurts_ to be rejected like this, especially by him. “I love you, you know. Do you really think I’d forget it when the person I love loves me back?”

“Can we not-“

“ _Iwa-chan,_ ” you cut in, scowling when the tears roll down your cheeks unbidden. Iwa-chan stares, wide-eyed and frozen in place, as though he doesn’t know just what it is he should do with you when all he really has to do is just say _yes_. “I love you. I want you to be my boyfriend. I want- I want to know why you don’t _want_ to. You can’t just tell me that you just don’t want things to change! That’s not good enough!”

“Oikawa!”

You flinch, both at the sound of thundering voice and at the sudden (and _strong_ ) clasp he has on your arm. “Not _here_ , alright?” he says in a hiss, squeezing his hand on you before letting you go. Then, turning away as he starts walking forward, he calls over his shoulder, “Let’s go home.”

“But-”

He turns his head to glare at you, making you freeze mid-run while you try to catch up to him. He says, firm and unfaltering, “We’ll talk about it at _home_ , Oikawa.” _And I won’t take no for an answer._

You press your lips together in a firm line, annoyed that he has any sway on you at all. And, because you can’t really say _no_ at this point, you hum (somewhat sullenly), “Un.”

There’s really nothing else you can do, is there?

 

* * *

 

“So,” he begins, walking forward and plopping gracelessly down onto your bed, gaze warm on your skin as you divest yourself of your jacket, “why not, Iwa-chan?”

“Because you know how romance works. You’ve dated a million times before, haven’t you?” you say, hanging the jacket on the chair by your desk. He’s frowning when you turn to him again, looking bemused at what that has to do with anything- which is _hilarious_ , because shouldn’t he know by now just how fickle romantic relationships are? “You broke up with _all of them_ , Oikawa. Do you get what I mean?”

“But that’s because they’re not you,” he says simply, face devoid of any hints of teasing as he looks up at you. Warmth creeps up on your cheeks and you scowl on instinct, annoyed at how he can say something so embarrassing so _honestly_. “I’ve always loved you, Iwa-chan. _Why_ would I ever break up with you?”

“What if I break up with you?” you point out with a frown, irritated that he’s only considering how _he_ feels about the entire thing. “What then?”

“You won’t.”

You squint at the certainty in his voice. “How’re you so sure?”

He smiles at you like he’s entertaining a child’s whims, and your scowl deepens. _How irritating._ “You’ve been with me for this long, Iwa-chan. You love me anyway. I think we’ll be fine.”

“You’re not worried? Not even one bit?” you ask, leaving the “ _yet you’re always worried about your underclassman surpassing you”_ unsaid. “You’re that sure about your feelings.”

“I’ve had years to think about it,” he confesses, the smile on his face so…sheepish and soft and _cute_ that you feel yourself getting annoyed even more. Since when were you so shallow, and so easily swayed just by a smile on his face? “I’ve already had my share of worrying. Now that I know that you feel the same, it’s kind of hard to feel worried about anything.”

“You’re embarrassing, you know that?”

He smiles widely. “Not really. It’s cute that _you’re_ feeling embarrassed, Iwa-chan.”

“I’m not _embarrassed_ ,” you snap, pulling out your chair so you can straddle it, folding your arms over the back so you have something to rest your chin on. “I’m just…surprised, that you can be so sure about something like this.” Then you glare at him, eyes squinting as you remind him, “My answer is still no. I don’t want to be your boyfriend.”

His smile falters. “But Iwa-chan,” he says, looking confused and sad and altogether _miserable_ , and you kind of hate yourself for a bit because _you_ caused this. “I don’t understand. If you love me too, wouldn’t it be fine for us to be together?” Then he pauses, blinking as he seems to contemplate something, before looking up at you with a curious look. “Is it because you’re worried about what everyone else will think? Because we’re both boys? Iwa-chan-”

“ _No_ , that’s not it,” you groan, hiding your face in the space behind your folded arms. “You’re so _annoying_. Didn’t I give you enough reasons?”

“Not really.”

You peek back up at him just to shoot a glare his way. “You’re fucking stubborn, Assikawa.”

He raises an eyebrow, almost as if trying to challenge you. “You already knew that, Iwa-chan. You still love me.”

“That’s because I’m an idiot.”

“ _Hey_ ,” he huffs, folding his arms over his chest as he scoots over a bit to look at you completely. “While it’s true that you’re dense, you’re not an idiot. You have good taste, you know?” He grins and you scowl again, because _why_ couldn’t he be this certain about himself during games? Why was he so proud of such _stupid_ things?

“Sure I do,” you deadpan, rolling your eyes when he purses his lips childishly in response. “The answer’s still no.”

“Why _not?_ ”

“Because I don’t want to!” you snap, before huffing and quieting down for a bit at the sight of him flinching in surprise. Voice softer, you say, “I don’t _want_ to, Oikawa. That’s it. You should find someone else to date.” Then you look up, right at him, and you falter.

If you were a poet, there were probably a million things you could say about the emotions on his face right now. If you were a writer, you could have a better chance of explaining just how _complex_ his facial expressions are at that moment.

But you’re neither of those things. You’re just you, average in academics and in literature, and all you can say is that he looks _hurt_.

And you hate yourself all over again, because what kind of friend are you when you keep hurting him like this? _Why can’t he just let it go?_

“How- how _stupid_ are you, Iwa-chan?” he says, sounding so devastated that you feel your heart cracking from the guilt, “how could you- _why_ would you say that? You know that I have feelings for you, _why_ would you say that I should just date someone else? That’s- that’s-”

“I’m sorry,” you cut in, clenching your fists tight enough that you feel your nails digging crescent-shaped indents into your palms, “I’m sorry, Oikawa. I just.” You heave out a sigh, pulling back from the back of your chair so you can press both of your hands to your face, the pads of your fingers putting pressure to the creases forming between your eyebrows. “I _can’t_.”

“We can’t even _try_?”

“I don’t want to.”

“But-”

“I’m _scared_ , alright!” you snap, surprising him into silence when the words spill from your mouth- unbidden even to you, because you’d never meant to say that. It bubbles and froths in your chest, filling your lungs with cotton and smoke and suffocating you that you can’t help from spitting out, “I’m fucking scared because I know that it’s not going to be fine. That’s why I didn’t want to confess in the first place.” You breathe in shakily, covering your face with your hands just so you don’t have to look at him anymore. “I just want us to be the same. I don’t- I’m not scared of us changing. I’m not scared because we’re both boys. I’m,” you trail off, the word cracking and choked up in your throat that you have to pause for a bit. You exhale with a shudder, trying not to cry when you speak again, “I don’t want more than this. I just want to be by your side, to be your friend throughout everything. I don’t want to change anything because this is already fine, isn’t it?” You look up and he’s looking at you, face stricken as you furiously wipe at the tears brimming in your eyes. “I just want this.”

He sniffles. His eyes are glassy with tears and you grit your teeth, because this is _exactly_ why you never wanted to confess. You didn’t want this. You never wanted this. You’re in love with him and you were _fine_ with that, there was no need to say anything, but he just- he just _had_ to say something. You _hate_ this.

“But you love me,” he says after a long moment of silence, rubbing the heel of his palm over his teary eyes. “You do, right?”

You nod, because what would be the point of lying after everything you’ve just confessed? “Yeah.”

“…okay.” He shudders a bit, probably from trying to hold in his tears, and you squeeze your eyes shut- hard enough that you can feel the tears trickling down your cheeks. “Okay,” he says again, his breath coming out in soft huffs as you open your eyes to the sight of him smiling a shaky smile. “That’s fine.”

You feel your heart drop in the pit of your stomach at the resigned look on his face. “Oikawa-”

“It’s fine, Iwa-chan,” he says, laughing through his tears as he wipes at his eyes. “I’m happy, just with that. We don’t have to change anything.”

You bite your lip. Surely, things aren’t going to be that easy? He was so angry before; you can’t believe that he’d stop being stubborn just because he saw you cry. “Then,” you begin, your breathing coming out a little shaky as well, “you’ll give up on me?”

He laughs again, though it doesn’t look like he means it in a bad way. “No, of course not,” he says, smiling still, not looking particularly concerned when you gawp at him in surprise. “I don’t give up that easily, Iwa-chan. You should know that.”

“But I just said-”

“I said it’s fine,” he says, waving a hand in dismissal while using his other hand to wipe at the tears still brimming in his eyes. “Just because you don’t want a relationship doesn’t mean I should stop loving you.”

Heat crawls over your skin unbidden, surely painting your cheeks with color as you try to say something in response. What comes out is a choked off noise, a pathetic sound, until you clear your throat and you manage to say, “That’s not- that’s not _fair_ to you, Oikawa. I can’t- you know that my feelings won’t change even if you wait.”

“And do you think my feelings will die just because you said that you don’t want a relationship?” he asks and you wince, feeling the guilt crawling back up to block your throat as you look away from him. Then he stands and you look again, blinking up at him as he reaches out his hands to cup your cheeks. “You’re cute when you’re worried, Iwa-chan,” he says, voice a murmur as he leans down, closer and closer until you feel your breaths intermingling and you have to close your eyes shut because you can’t handle looking at him so closely. Then he presses a kiss to your forehead, softly and gently, and your eyes snap open because that was _not_ what you expected him to do. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to kiss you. Not yet.” He smiles, you can feel it from the upward curve of his lips against your forehead, and you feel yourself blush. “If you’re fine with this, then I’ll be fine with it too.”

“Oikawa,” you say, feeling the helplessness itching on your skin at the determined gleam flashing bright in his eyes.

He pulls away, but only just enough to be able to look at you. Lips quirked up into a smile, he says, “Hajime.”

 _Hajime_.

Then he smiles, widely, looking far too much like a cat that’s gotten his prey because of the embarrassment burning hotly on your face. “It’ll be fine. It’s not like you’ll date anyone, will you?”

You purse your lips at the expectant smile on his face. “No.”

His smile brightens just from that, and you feel yourself burning up even more. _Embarrassing._ “Then it’s fine. I won’t date anyone else either.”

You jerk in surprise at that, slapping away the hands he has on your face. “That’s not,” you sputter, eyes wide as you furrow your brows at him, “that is the _exact opposite_ of what I told you to do!”

He laughs, and you scowl. “What, did you honestly think that nothing would change? Be real, Iwa-chan.” He grins as he pinches your cheek, but you quickly swat his hand away before he can try again. Unfazed, he says, “You love me too. That’s more than enough for me, at this point. There’s no way I’m dating anyone else when I already know that.”

You scowl at the extremely satisfied look on his face.

 _This is_ not _what I wanted to happen._

Then he reaches out, both arms stretched open, and you have to stifle a squawk of surprise when he wraps his arms around your shoulders in a hug. You don’t even have to look to know that he’s smiling; you can _feel_ it in your bones and in your blood, just from the tightness of his arms wound around you and the quick _thump-thump_ of his heart inside his chest, pressed close to your ear.

You sigh in resignation. You wrap your arms around him in turn, squeezing him close, and he giggles.

You have to hold back a laugh at that.

_Things aren’t turning out quite as well as I’d hoped, but._

You huff out a sound suspiciously similar to laughter.

_I suppose this is better than I’d expected._


End file.
